


Ice Pops, in Grape

by edens_coda



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst Prohibited, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tsukki gets teased by his family, Yamaguchi centric, Yamaguchi is a man of simple pleasures, Yamaguchi the Tsukki Whisperer, feel good fic, slow development, time skip, tsukishima centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-20 23:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11345709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edens_coda/pseuds/edens_coda
Summary: There were three things that Tsukishima Kei hated during the summer: the figurative sun, the literal sun, and grape-flavored ice pops. The first because Hinata was always a pain, no matter the season. The second because he hated the heat and the endless glare of light on his glasses. And the third, well, Yamaguchi would argue he doesn't really hate it. But he won't say why—that's a secret.





	1. Freezer Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is honestly just a self-indulgent TsukkiYama fic in which I throw all my headcanons at them. But I hope you guys can enjoy them too. :)

Kei blamed the summer sun.

He blamed it on the blinding, scorching, irritating sun.

The heat wave began earlier in the week, every news station warning viewers to protect their skin. UV this, sunscreen that. But nobody seemed to have any precautions to protect his sanity. What level of SPF did he need for that?

He sucked in a sharp, hot breath, trying to calm himself.

The sun made him do things.

Usually, he was just easier to irritate, easier to _infuriate_. But this was a new level of madness not even he could have predicted. No, jeez, he'd never even dreamed of it.

"Sorry, Yamaguchi." He said as levelly as he could. He stood up, straightened out his indigo tank and baggy white shorts with some semblance of control, and hurriedly walked— _tripped_ out of the Yamaguchi residence.

No one came after him. And he thanked every deity he knew.

But now he was back out in this disgusting, unbearable, sickening heat.  He couldn't believe he'd just—it just looked so inviting—he never meant to actually—

Kei jumped as a car passed, the sudden growl of the engine startling him out of his self-induced spiral of regret and, much to his chagrin, excitement. He took another breath of scalding air.

The blonde raked an unsteady hand through his hair as he trudged along, trying to remember why he'd had a sudden lapse of judgment, a sudden lapse of sanity, a sudden lapse of being Tsukishima Kei.

Everything was normal. They'd gotten fruity ice pops from Yamaguchi's freezer—the last strawberry one for Kei and one of the surplus of grape flavored popsicles for Yamaguchi—and they sat in the shade of the navy blue awning in Yamaguchi's backyard. They had shared stories about their last day of class—"so Hinata bit Kageyama's hand" and "he really is just some small animal" and "right right? And then Suga tried to"—and everything was normal as far as Kei could tell.

But then Yamaguchi had to be a slow eater and an avid storyteller.

Kei had already finished his ice pop five minutes ago while Yamaguchi was still relaying the whole "biting turned to dodgeball classroom style" fiasco and still licking at his melting grape ice pop. The blonde had more or less lost interest in the story, keeping the other boy entertained with a few acknowledging hums and nods, but the heat waves were getting to him. He could feel the sweat rolling down his back, his tank sticking to him, soaking into his skin. In all honesty, Kei had probably just wanted another popsicle, but he didn't like grape.

"Tsukki!" Golden eyes snapped away from the melting treat to focus on Yamaguchi's brown eyes. "Your mouth is all red from the popsicle," he laughed. "Is mine purple?"

If his mouth had been empty, Kei theorized, it wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't finished his own ice pop minutes ago, it wouldn't have happened. If Yamaguchi had just kept his mouth _closed_ , it wouldn't have happened.

But as it had happened, by chance—or by unwittingly clever planning and seduction, he wasn’t quite sure yet—Yamaguchi had just taken a rather large chunk of his grape popsicle right before calling his name. And as soon as he innocently asked, "is mine purple?" the boy opened his mouth to reveal a melting chunk of grape ice sitting deliciously on his purple stained tongue.

Kei groaned as he remembered it. _He'd gone mad._

And just as soon as Kei's eyes locked onto the piece of ice showcased in Yamaguchi's mouth, he quickly, smoothly—ugh, had he ever been that smooth in his life?—placed a finger under Yamaguchi's chin to lift his face and in one fell swoop, he leaned down to scoop out the ice with his eager tongue, relishing in the cold, sweet aftertaste as he tried to gently suck and lap at any of the remaining coolness in the hollows of Yamaguchi's cheeks and on his startled tongue. When the inside of his mouth was beginning to blister and burn as hot as Kei felt, he'd pulled back with irritation.

Then realization.

Yamaguchi's grape popsicle had been forgotten, dripping to a sticky mess on the boy's hand, but he looked unfazed, or rather, unaware of anything except Kei's alien, but seemingly not uninvited, activities. The boy's eyes had glazed over as he took a tentative, unsure lick of his lips.

Kei hadn't done anything else, but he swore he could feel another wave of grape along his tongue as he watched Yamaguchi.

_"Sorry, Yamaguchi."_

And now here he is: walking home in the smothering heat with an irritating grape flavor in his mouth that won't go away.

He hated grape.

\---

Kei was baking. No, really. He'd actually gone to the store, grabbed some ingredients from the local convenience store, and he started baking. He had a large bowl (probably too much) of homemade whipped cream sitting in front of him, and inside the oven was a rising Apology Cake. He was calling it that, but he's not even sure if an apology was the right thing to do. Sure, he'd thoughtlessly crossed the thin line between best friends and lovers. Sure, he'd stuck his tongue—no, okay, yeah. An apology was the right thing to do.

The blonde pulled out strawberries from the fridge and began to wash them, taking care to set aside the perfectly shaped ones in a separate bowl.

"Something smells delicious in here!" Kei's mother exclaimed as she stepped into the house, a large bag of groceries around her arms and beads of sweat dripping down her cheek.

Kei rushed over to her, abandoning his strawberries and lifting up the heavy bags. "Cake." He replied simply, lending his arm to her.

Mrs. Tsukishima smiled gently, knowingly. "A fight with Tadashi?"

Kei stiffened.

"Y'know, you always bake strawberry shortcake for him, but isn't that _your_ favorite dessert?" She asked teasingly.

Kei stood his ground as she slipped out of her blue sandals and placed them to the side. "I'm afraid I'll poison him if I make anything else." Kei sighed as he started to lead them both to the kitchen, his mother's hand hooked onto his arm.

"Why don't you buy him something nice for a change?" Mrs. Tsukishima hummed as she gingerly opened the bag of groceries he’d set on the kitchen table and began to empty its contents.

Kei frowned. He'd never even considered it, but the answer was easy.

"It's not sincere enough." He said as he busied himself with rinsing strawberries once again.

Mrs. Tsukishima giggled, "'It's not _sincere_ enough!'" she mimicked, childishly lowering her voice to his pitch and speaking with much more emphasis than he did, "My gosh, you're such an honest kid." She let out another laugh before giving him a light pat on the shoulder. "Be sure to apologize to him properly, okay?"

Kei forced his mouth into a hard line at the sound of his mother's amusement, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. Okay, yes, this was an apology cake, but how did his mother know he was at fault? And why, for crying out loud, is he being laughed at if this was so normal?

"Ooh!" Came an excited cry from the front door. "Something smells delicious! Is that cake?" There was a brief silence as Akiteru made his way to the kitchen. Before he even made an appearance, he hollered, "Kei, what did you do this time?"

The younger boy stared at his arriving brother, unamused.

Akiteru gave him back a grin. "Look, you only ever bake when you've messed up." He pointed at the cake as if it were evidence. "If Tadashi had messed up, you'd be walking into walls with a scary face and won't hear anything we say and eventually you come home with an Unspeakable Something."

If Mrs. Tsukishima wasn't laughing yet, she sure was now. "Aki! Don't tease your brother too much! Look, he's going red!" Their mother gave Akiteru a light slap on his chest as she lightly pretend-shoved him out of the kitchen. "Besides, I think it's cute that Tadashi finds all these dinosaur things to give him. Though now I can't ever get him anything, because I'm afraid he already has it!"

"And to think I’m the reason Kei started to like dinosaurs to begin with!” Akiteru sighed, pressing a hand to his chest and looking towards the ceiling fondly as if he could see the images of their childhood in the air. When Kei let out a snort in response, the elder of the boys narrowed his eyes and grinned mischievously. “But it’s not _just dinosaurs_ either." Akiteru supplied with a teasing grin and a subtle wave of his eyebrows. “Tadashi has his own way of being sincere too, right Kei?”

Oh. That did it.

“ _Nii-chan_ ,” Kei growled warningly. His shoulders were raised, as if offended and ready to attack, but neither mother nor brother seemed alarmed. No, not when his face was as red as the strawberries on the kitchen counter, not when his mouth was fighting to stay dominant and angry, despite the corners of his mouth betraying him in momentary upward curls. “You _didn’t_.”

He was so sure they would never find them! This was becoming simultaneously humiliating and laughable.

 “Hm?” Mrs. Tsukishima tilted her head to the side, wondering what was being said and wanting to be in on the teasing. “ _Do tell,_ Aki.” She stepped in line with Akiteru as she leaned in close to him, waving him down to her ear.

The older blonde leaned down towards his mother, the grin never leaving his face. “You know those art prints on Kei’s calendar and on his walls and in his textbooks and on his corkboard?” Kei didn’t appreciate the obvious emphasis of just how much of Tadashi’s prints he had on display.

Mrs. Tsukishima lifted a single elegant eyebrow in curiosity. “What about them?”

“Aki-nii!” Kei exclaimed, his voice—embarrassingly—shifting in pitch mid-cry. “Don’t tell her! And why are you going through my stuff?”

The grin got wider. “They’re _letters_ , Mom.”

Finishing blow.

Kei let out an aggravated, defeated groan as he slumped onto the kitchen counter, hiding his burning face with his hands.

“ _Letters?_ ” She exclaimed excitedly. She’d never known. She’d noticed them ever since Kei’s first birthday celebration with Tadashi, but she never bothered to look _behind_ the art. “But I thought those were just birthday presents? You know how much Kei likes those—what are they, dear? The simple art style?”

“Minimalist.” Kei grumbled, his head dangerously close to the sink. He vaguely wondered if he could fit his head into the garbage disposal.

“Right! Minimalist art things.”

Akiteru nodded in agreement. “Yeah, some of them are, honestly.” He thought about them for a minute. “A good number of them are just ‘Happy Birthday, Tsukki!’ and then some cheesy best friend message, but there are some that are just _full_ of text.”

“Aki-nii!” Kei cried, finally lifting his head. “Invasion of privacy!”

“I didn’t mean to read it!” Akiteru defended, raising his hands. “It’s just that one fell off your wall one day, so I was about to put it back up, when I saw the _massive_ amount of text on the back, and then I realized it was 2 of 5.” He chuckled nervously and then began speaking rapidly, as if finally feeling a bit guilty about it. “And then—Tadashi’s incredible at writing, you have to admit, but he just _rambles_ —so I felt like I just _had_ to read the rest, and that’s how I figured out they all had text on the back.” He smiled sheepishly and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, Kei.”

The blonde sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just,” He didn’t even know what to say, “Just pretend they don’t exist?”

Kei glanced up when he didn’t hear a response, only to see that the blurry outlines of his mother and brother had melded together, the outline of his mother shaking ever so slightly. He narrowed his eyes and replaced his glasses, realizing that in fact, Akiteru was now doing the exact opposite of what he had just asked.

“ _No!_ ” Their mom gasped, as if she were listening to the most scandalous news she’d ever heard.

“That’s it!” Kei stomped his foot, admittedly a little too childish for his tastes. “No more of this! Out! Out of my kitchen!” The boy hurried over to his brother, turned him around sloppily and gave him a none-too-gentle shove and push out into the living room. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“But Kei!” Akiteru whined in response, though he let himself be pushed out. “This is our brotherly bonding time!”

Kei rolled his eyes, his mouth ready for the most sarcastic, sardonic, mocking tone he could conjure. “And I’m in love with Tadashi.” The blonde shut his mouth immediately, suddenly catching his slip of the tongue. He never called Yamaguchi “Tadashi.” He’s also never joked about loving him either. Impossible. He didn’t. Another lapse of being Tsukishima Kei? What was happening to him?

The elder boy finally resisted him, practically forcing Kei to slam into his brother’s back. Akiteru turned to face Kei at that time, his expression surprised and bewildered.

“You mean to tell me you _don’t?”_


	2. Summer Chills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi doesn't know what's happening. But he thinks he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thanks to everyone who bookmarked, commented, and gave me kudos for the first chapter! (〃▽〃) I'm super happy every time one of those things happen, and it was such a short chapter so I didn't think it would get much attention. Fingers crossed that people still like this story after this chapter...
> 
> But anyway! I'll be adding additional tags as I go, since I'm just going with the flow.  
> (/へ＼*)
> 
> Actual important note:  
>  _Italicized words_ can either refer to thoughts of the character or merely emphasis. It should be fairly easy to tell which is which.  
>  **Bold-faced words** are text messages.

Tadashi lifted his pen. He was ready.

He'd pulled out Tsukki's Special Use-Only-When-Friendship-Is-At-Breaking-Point art print, because this was an emergency. He didn't think he'd ever have to use it now that they were in the same college.

In high school, he couldn't bear to part ways with Tsukki. Not when he was finally starting to catch up to him, not when he was starting to feel like he could finally stand on his own. Surely, after college, he'd be able to live without his best friend within arm's reach, right? He believed that even when Tsukki gets married in the future, he wouldn't have to use it, because by then, Tadashi should have someone too, right?

That was the plan. It was supposed to be smooth sailing.

 _Tsukki_ , Tadashi vaguely wondered how many times he'd screamed that name in his head, in how many ways, in how many different pitches and screeches, _Tsukki, Tsukki._

It was the same name he'd used for years, but saying it so often had alienated it. He could feel a cold sensation spreading through his chest with every repetition of the name.

But every time he said it, he'd feel an icy burn along his tongue.

How he _craved_ it, insatiably so, unbearably so—guiltily so.

Tadashi groaned as his head fell onto the desk. There was no way they were going to recover from this. What could he even write? "Sorry, Tsukki, I enjoyed that too much?" or better yet, "Tsukki, let's try that again?" or no, no, "Tsukki, sorry, I don't mean to sexualize you, but I need to do that again."

The brunette let the pen slip out of his hands. Was he always this shallow? And with his best friend no less? He's not only failed himself by this point, but he's also failed Tsukki.

"Jeez," Tadashi sighed, "does it even need to be Tsukki anymore?"

His chest gave a strange pull and squeeze as the words left his mouth.

He placed a hand to his heart in wonder. He'd had girlfriends before, just like Tsukki had. Usually, they'd end up single together, or in a relationship—with other people, of course—together. Tadashi was usually the first to go into a relationship; Tsukki following shortly after.

The blonde had told him once that Tadashi was like a repellant. Anytime the brunette left his side, all the annoying ones would start hovering around him.

Out of boredom, Tadashi supposed, Tsukki would date a girl here and there, but nothing ever seemed to change between them. Not with Tsukki and the girl. Not with Tsukki and him. Everything was constant, easy. There was no wind to follow or wave to ride with them. It was always calm waters and clear skies.

But this was not calm waters and not clear skies. This was a purple haze, a violent storm cloud throwing him tall, massive waves and putting his whole being through hell.

There was no recovering from this, because the more he thought about it, the more he feared what he might find at the end.

He liked girls; he did. He does. He loves the way their hair sways with each step they take. He loves their gentle smiles, their sweet aura. He loves how they make him feel warm inside, how they mold their small bodies into his chest, how they leave gentle kisses on his lips, how completely different a girl can be outside from how she is behind closed doors.

He loved all these things, but those weren't specifically for girls, were they?

He wasn't particular about a chest or a body type, didn't really care if she was tall or short. The appearance may have made him agree to the confession initially, but it was never what kept him there. Never, never.

Tadashi loved the way Tsukki frowned—so close to a pout—whenever he made fun of the curls in his hair, how different they were from Akiteru's straight locks. And Tsukki would never admit it, but Tadashi knew he still admired his brother the same way he did when they first met. He loved the way Tsukki smiled at him when they shared a joke or when they found a common interest. He loved how he enjoyed sweets and the content face he makes when he treats himself to one.

He loves how Tsukki makes him feel strong and powerful, and sure, before, it was just borrowed power, but now Tsukki was helping make Tadashi strong, and he made him feel like he could do anything if he just believed in himself a bit more.

And, well, he sure saw the difference between the Tsukki With Other People and the Tsukki With Tadashi, and that had always, always been a source of pride for him.

What was he supposed to do now?

He wondered hesitantly, dangerously.

Would Tsukki's body mold into his if he held him close? Would he snuggle his face into the crook of his neck in a hug? Would he intertwine their fingers under a dinner table while they eat? Would he smile into a kiss just because?

Tadashi's heart swelled. Whatever tug or pull that was happening from his lustful guilt, was now multiplying tenfold with this—this awful _crush_.

_Oh, no._

That's not what this is. That's not what this is.

Tadashi shot up in his seat, suddenly standing rigid. "No," he said slowly, then in a quick breath,"no no no no." His heart was fluttering; it was soaring, doing cart wheels in his chest, but oh, how his face paled.

\---

> **_  
> _ ** **1 New Message: Tsukki :)** _  
> _ **Do you have time for some cake?**

Nearly a day had passed since The Event. Tadashi had been unable to function for the majority of the morning, stumbling on things he normally wouldn't, nearly stabbing himself with his empty chopsticks (how he'd managed not to pick anything up from his full plate was beyond even him), and he was itching to message Tsukki, but he thought the blonde needed some space. Well, honestly speaking, he thought he needed some space too.

But this wasn't what he expected.

Tsukki was going to apologize?

The cake almost always meant Tsukki felt that he was in the wrong and felt the need to apologize. Although most times, he usually feels guilty about the dumbest thing: neglecting him during volleyball training camps—Tadashi felt like the ones with Nekoma and Fukurodani were particularly like a double edged sword—or when he accidentally threw the harsh realities of the economy onto Tadashi's hopeful heart or when he kept cancelling hang outs for classes and study sessions with people in his major. If he thought about it, he couldn't remember a single time he'd actually been angry at Tsukki. Maybe disappointed, maybe disheartened, maybe a bit annoyed, but angry was never the right word and an apology was never something he expected in return.

But this wasn't like those times. Tadashi didn't want an apology at all. He wasn't sure what would happen if he accepted Tsukki's apology. Maybe nothing? That nothing might kill him now.

Tadashi's hands trembled as he tapped the beginnings of a message, only to delete it and restart it with the intentions of denying him.

Just as he was about to finish, he paused.

"No, I think I'm forgetting something." Tadashi said aloud, startling himself with a sudden clarity. "I was so caught up with how I felt about what happened that I forgot that Tsukki was the one who did it to begin with?”

Tadashi's face scrunched together as a whole new web of thoughts launched from the realization.

Forget the cake, Tadashi already knew his logic was weird when it came to his apologies and what he felt sorry for. But the question now is why Tsukki did it in the first place. He was so engrossed in the feeling of their mouths together, that he'd forgotten it wasn't normal for their mouths to have been together at all. What's the reason? Is there even a reason?

Tadashi erased his message.

> **Yeah. The usual place?**

\---

The usual place was their second home. Well, maybe their third. The volleyball court was always going to be their second. Hidden away by trees and shrubs and a half hour walk to the outskirts of town, the usual place towered above, the place where they saw the stars above and below.

There they ranted about life, watched the stars until sunrise (and then snuck into bed before everyone else woke up), fell asleep to Tsukki's latest playlist, and where they made amends.

Tadashi hoped that meeting there, specifically there, would help repair whatever disconnect they had.

He sat there, alone, about six hours too early. He couldn't think about anything else, couldn't breathe, couldn't function until he knew exactly what Tsukki was going to say.

Why had he done it? Maybe it was an accident? Maybe he liked him? Maybe he just really wanted more of the popsicle?—But Tsukki hates grape.

Ugh, thinking about it wasn't going to do him any good. He needed to know what Tsukki was going to say. That was the only way he could move forward. The only way he could move at all.

Tadashi flipped his phone over, realizing that only an hour had passed, though it felt like four. The sun was still high in the air, beating down on him. He lay sprawled out on the grass, partially shaded by a tall, aged tree.

He rolled around, mainly out of frustration, also out of boredom. As he finished his third rollover, he heard a rustle behind his head, causing him to stop in wonder and in horror.

"Thought so."

Tadashi sat upright, his form messy and covered in stray blades of grass. "Tsukki! I, uh—you're early."

Tsukki walked towards him, a large box of what Tadashi assumed to be cake and a paper bag of the closest fast food joint. He kept his eyes on the paper bag, because this was new.

"Here." Once Tsukki reached him, he casually reached out the paper bag for Tadashi, who took it hesitantly from his grasp. "I figured you'd be hungry."

_Oh my God._

Tsukki brought two apology gifts? Tsukki's favorite food and his own? This does not sit well with him.

"Th-Thanks, Tsukki!" his voice came out slightly higher than intended, visibly wincing at the awkwardness he was projecting. The other boy didn't seem to mind as he sat down next to him, no closer than normal and no farther either.

Tadashi opened the bag, and as if on cue, his stomach let out a soft growl. He let out an embarrassed laugh and reiterated, calmer this time, "Thanks, Tsukki." The blonde nodded as he settled into the grass beside him.

As he pulled out two large containers of fries—Tadashi wondered if he expected him to finish it all, not that he'd mind honestly—and began munching on them slowly, careful to keep at least part of his attention on Tsukki.

A whole maybe five or ten minutes passed before anything was said.

"And here's cake." He set the box between them, but kept his eyes forward.

"Oh," Tadashi replied slowly, “Yeah,” and waited for a follow up. "Thanks."

It should come any minute now. Any minute.

"I don't know what your favorite food is."

And that's not what he was expecting.

"Hmf?" Tadashi exclaimed, a fry currently stuck between his lips. He quickly pushed the remainder of it into his mouth. "Eh? What do you mean?"

Tsukki's brows furrowed, as if he was having trouble understanding something. "I don't know your favorite food." His eyes that were so fixated in front of him moved sideways, away from Tadashi. "I don't know your favorite color. I think it's green, but I've never really asked."

"I—well—no—I mean yes!" Tadashi fumbled with his words and nearly spat out remnants of his fries in his confusion. "Yes, my favorite color is green, but—?"

Tsukki stayed still.

"Oh! And this is my favorite food, Tsukki!" He held out the container of fries frantically, nearly smashing them against Tsukki's arm. Man, would _that_ have been embarrassing.

Tsukki finally looked at him, a small, barely visible smile on his lips. His eyes seemed to study Tadashi's face for a minute, until he sighed.

"I," he began, "I'm trying to," he hid his head in his arms with a groan and mumbled something Tadashi couldn't hear.

"Hm? Tsukki?" Tadashi leaned forward, trying to listen for whatever the blonde was grumbling to himself.

Tsukki peered from the cage of his arms. "About yesterday."

Tadashi could see the tips of his ears turning red, though his face expressed less embarrassment and more annoyance. But he knew better. The harsher his face was the more off-balance he was, because he's Tsukki and he would rather be dead than look uncool.

Tadashi made some kind of noise to acknowledge it, the Event.

"Sorry."

Tadashi's breath hitched. Tsukki was—Tadashi admitted—often at fault. After high school, they had become more honest, confronting each other with things they didn’t like and what bothered them about the other. Most people would have felt insulted by what they said to each other, but they both took it in stride. At first, it was just, “I don’t like that you don’t try new things,” and, “I don’t like that you text me a million times a day,” but eventually they became,“I don’t like that you get really mean when you feel insecure,” and, “I don’t like that you can be a pushover; you’re just asking to be stepped on,”  

Tadashi knew when Tsukki was honest; he knew when he was truly sorry. But this was different. Maybe because Tadashi had done it so often—still does—but this was the face of someone who is _not_ sorry.

Tsukki’s feigned irritation was betrayed by the subtle upward turn of his lips. How they quivered at the ends, struggling to be angry, struggling to be happy. When he didn’t receive a reply, Tsukki turned the rest of his body towards Tadashi, a real frown finally overpowering his face.

“Hey?”

Tadashi noted the tension in Tsukki’s shoulders, how his elbows had pulled into his torso tightly, as if bound by an invisible rope. In comparison, Tsukki’s face was the epitome of casual discontent.

Too mesmerized by what was unfolding before him, Tadashi simply stared, having an out-of-body experience. It was minutes later when Tsukki had turned his face away and pulled the rest of his lanky, sweaty limbs into himself that Tadashi realized his mistake.

“So that’s it?” A soft, soft whisper that got lost in the deafening crying of cicadas.

Tadashi blinked, snapping himself out of his daze. “What?”

“That’s it?” It was louder this time, cutting above the summer sighs and sobs around them.

“Tsukki,” Tadashi’s voice didn’t waver, wasn’t quiet or unsure, “Do you like me?”

The solemn atmosphere had single-handedly been destroyed as Tsukki’s form loosened, his head whipping toward Tadashi as if he’d just screamed bloody murder. “ _Huh? What did you just say?”_

Tadashi winced at the sudden increase in volume, but determined to find a conclusion he was satisfied with, he stood his ground. “Do you like me?”

He watched as Tsukki’s face obviously contorted in front of him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, nose scrunching up in distaste, mouth overturning in displeasure. He inwardly groaned with each passing second, because now he was sinking in a crush, and his best friend was looking at him like he just asked the most disgusting thing imaginable—Tadashi may as well have asked Tsukki if he liked Hinata with the face he was pulling.

He should just apologize now for even bringing it up. He needs to do it now. Things may still be fixed if he does it now. “Sor—!”

“I don’t know.” Tsukki interrupted, all previous disgust removed from his face. He waited for Tadashi to relax before repeating. “I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” It was Tadashi’s turn to give Tsukki a confused expression.

“I mean I didn’t hate it,” the blonde responded, his eyes downcast and his hand aggressively wiping sweat off his forehead, “But I don’t think I _like_ you. I mean, you’re just Yamaguchi.”

 _Just Yamaguchi, he says_ , Tadashi felt like he’d been offhandedly slapped across the face _, Thanks Tsukki._

“But _because_ you’re Yamaguchi,” Tsukki continued as he busied himself with wiping his sweat-covered hand on the fabric of his shorts, “I don’t want to say I _don’t_ like you.”

“So you’re saying?” Tadashi knew they hadn’t reached the conclusion yet. “Tsukki do you—?” He trailed off, unsure if finishing the question was the right way to go.

Tsukki’s mouth was stuck in a hard line as he looked up at Tadashi with almost pleading eyes.

 _Finish it_. Tadashi could feel that’s what his eyes were saying. _Finish the question_.

“Do you want to date me?”

“I don’t know.” Well, maybe that’s not what his eyes were saying after all.

They stayed silent, letting themselves get beaten down by the suffocating heat. The cake was probably melting, Tadashi realized, as he avoided looking at Tsukki. He already tried to move things along. He wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted either, but he needed _something_ to happen. But he needed Tsukki to make anything happen.

“Do you care?”

Tadashi’s eyes darted toward Tsukki who was once again rigid and struggling to make eye contact with him.

“About what, Tsukki?”

“Labels, titles, formalities—dating, boyfri—ugh—things like that?” Tadashi let out a chuckle as Tsukki grimaced halfway through.

Tadashi hummed momentarily, mulling over the thought for a minute. “Hm, no, not particularly. Do you?”

Tsukki never answered his question. Instead, he just looked over Tadashi’s face, searching for something—probably a reason to back out, he mused, but he kept his expression open. Whatever excuse Tsukki was looking for, he wouldn’t give it to him.

“Then I want to try it,” Tsukki was moving them forward and an excited shiver traveled up and down Tadashi’s spine, “with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if the POV switch bothers anyone... It's actually how the rest of the story goes, so if that's not your cup of tea, I apologize, and now is probably the time to bail.
> 
> For anyone wondering, I should be able to post about once a week, give or take.  
> (´～｀ヾ)


	3. Casual Passions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First loves, disconnect, and Tsukishima being adventurous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting up to this chapter! :) 
> 
> For this chapter and for future ones too, maybe consider reading its partner chapter? I'll sometimes do both POV of the same event if I think it's important enough. 
> 
> _Italicized words_ means thinking, emphasis, or flashback.  
>  **Bold-faced words** means text messages.
> 
> Have fun!

“You mean to tell me you _don’t?”_

Kei stared at his brother’s bewildered eyes as he tried to understand the implications of that question. Akiteru was suggesting—and Kei based this solely on the way he nearly cried out that question and the face he was receiving—that he believed Kei _already_ loved Yamaguchi. In which case, that would imply that his brother here thought there was a deeper relationship than just friendship between him and Yamaguchi. In which case, that would imply that his dear older brother read all of those letters exchanged between _friends_ as letters between _lovers_ , which would imply _also_ that his incredibly intelligent, sweet as sugar older brother was teasing him earlier not for being a guilty friend who made a mistake but as a lover who had messed up—Kei’s breath hitched in his throat.

“What?” He so nearly growled.

Akiteru immediately straightened himself up, seemingly about to apologize for his mistake, but he paused, relaxing his posture only to quietly ask, “Wait, so you’re really _not_ dating Tadashi?”

The amount of profanities that exploded in Kei’s head deserved an entire novel and multiple literary analyses, because he surprised even himself with the material he was internally screaming.

“ _What?”_ He asked again, less on edge and more panicked, because the more he thought about it, the _more he understood_ why Akiteru might think that.

Just recently, there was the time he was telling him about that almost-trip.

“Well, I mean,” Akiteru began in hopes of defending himself, “When you were telling me about that trip and Tadashi’s parents didn’t want to let just the two of you go to Tokyo for vacation, you said—“

Kei tuned him out, because he knows damn well what he had said very clearly.

_“I don’t understand why they won’t let us go by ourselves. We’re already 20, and they know I would take care of him.”_

He grimaced at his poor word choice. That was one for Akiteru, zero for Kei.

Then there was the time—ugh, he really wanted to strangle Yamaguchi right now—he had told Akiteru _and his mom_ that he had to deliver Yamaguchi’s pants to him in the middle of the night.

“And then there was that one time Tadashi forgot his pants here one day,” Akiteru continued casually, like he was explaining why the sky was blue, “and we were wondering why he had his _pants off_ in the first place, because he didn’t even stay the night.”

In Kei’s defense, he had let the brunette borrow some sweats while they did their homework since their uniform could get stuffy and uncomfortable during the summer, and Yamaguchi had walked home in his clothes. But still, that’s two for Akiteru, zero for Kei.

And while he’s at it, Kei may as well include all those times he hung out with Yamaguchi right after his dates with previous girlfriends—and the way they had _talked_ about hanging out with each other after dates, as if that was _normal_ , as if being together as buddies was a for sure thing and going on a date with a girl was just temporary.

> **You free this Saturday?**
> 
> **Kinda. I have a date with** —Kei forgot the name— **but I can meet up with you after! We should be done by 3PM.**
> 
> **Ok. Just let me know. My date with** —for sanity’s sake, Kei skipped her name **—should be done by 1PM on Saturday.**

And how many times had he _actually_ _been dumped_ , because he didn’t give his girlfriend enough time? Kei sighed as Akiteru listed more and more reasons, but by this point, he was just describing his entire friendship with Yamaguchi rather than actually explaining why he thought they were dating.

“I mean, _Kei_ , you’ve never even been with anyone else.”

Kei was taken aback a bit. “I’ve had girlfriends.”

Akiteru raised a single brow, as if challenging that statement. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve only ever dated girls until now.” Kei explained, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “What did you think I meant when I said, ‘I have a date with my girlfriend. I’m going out’?”

Akiteru blinked, realizing he was being serious. “Oh. I thought that you were just too embarrassed to tell us you were dating Tadashi.”

Kei caught that. “ _Us?”_

“Yeah,” Akiteru replied, dragging out the syllable as long as he could, “Us, as in, me and mom and dad.”

A helpless groan escaped Kei’s lips as he staggered towards the nearest wall. “So this entire family thought I was gay for Yamaguchi the whole time?”

Akiteru let out a what-can-you-do kind of shrug as he chuckled at Kei’s defeated posture. “Listen Kei,” the elder said, his voice gentle and understanding as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Sorry if we’re wrong. It’s just that you and Tadashi work well together, so we thought it was a natural path for you to take. You’ve never let anyone get close to you as you have Tadashi, surely you know that.”

Kei peered at Akiteru over his shoulder. “But me and Yamaguchi— _romantically?”_ He nearly spat the word out, but the memories of everything they’d ever done together were swirling around in his head.

“And it’s so obvious that Yamaguchi loves you.”

Kei did a double-take as the sentence sunk in. “Whoa,” he raised a hand to stop anything even more blasphemous from coming out of his brother’s mouth, “Yamaguchi’s love for me is the same love he has for a role model or a good TV show or a best friend. _Not_ a romantic interest.”

Akiteru was about to roll his eyes but caught himself just in time to avoid getting hit with a glare from the younger boy.

“Okay, okay,” Akiteru raised his hands in surrender, “My mistake. So you’re not dating Tadashi. That’s cool too.”

Kei inhaled deeply, trying to gather himself. This was some Grade A timing, if he had a say in it. If fate or destiny actually existed, it played a part—no, it _orchestrated_ everything that’s happened in the past couple of days, because never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined any of this happening.

But then again, it’s not like everything had turned on its head so suddenly. It was more like a series of small happenings, a series of tiny, miniscule events that had led up to this moment.

He’d been relaxed and comfortable with Yamaguchi for so long, he never bothered to think how others might perceive them. And all the quirks and moments they shared that went unnoticed by them were speculated by the people around them for—from what Akiteru let on— _years_. All of this was just building up to a moment where one of them would make a move, or when something would happen, or when one of them would slip up, make a mistake—!

Kei made that mistake.

He had set it into motion. Unknowingly, he’d upset their lives in a way he didn’t think possible.

“Kei! Your cake is almost done!”

He wasn’t sure an Apology Cake would be enough anymore.

\---

> **Yeah. The usual place?**

His fingers were trembling; he was trying to act as blasé as he could about the whole thing—not that his nervousness could be seen from text messaging—but it was impossible to ignore the melting pot of emotions brewing in his stomach.

He was embarrassed—Akiteru made sure of that. He was guilty—he still had the image of Yamaguchi’s violet mouth and the sensation of grape and saliva sliding along his tongue spinning around in his head. He was confused—his heart wasn’t sure which way to go and his head had shut off about 3 hours ago when he was decorating the cake, wondering if he should cut the base of the strawberries and place them upside down or simply lay them flat. He was happy—ugh, he didn’t even know why he was happy, he just _was_. And he was for sure _nervous_ and _terrified_ about what Yamaguchi might say.

Maybe the brunette will just avoid him from now on. It’s unlikely, Kei thought (albeit smugly), but still possible.

Actually, if he was considering what was the most likely of outcomes for Yamaguchi—Kei glanced at the clock on his bedroom wall—he’ll probably show up hours earlier than the agreed meeting time, because he’s too simple-minded to put his problems on the back-burner and carry on as usual.

Though out of character, Kei mused, he should probably grab Yamaguchi some food too, make it an Apology Cake and Fries.

He tapped his fingers on his desk, wondering if he had any summer homework to do or games to finish or bands to look into.

He looked at his clock again, then back to his desk.

He pressed the lock button of his cellphone, tapping in his password. He flipped through the pages of apps absentmindedly, then back to the home screen, tapping at the time display.

He locked it again and looked up at the clock on his wall.

Without a second to lose, Kei grabbed his house keys and headed for the kitchen where his cake was cooling in the fridge, carefully packaged into a dark purple box with a starry design.

He’d walked as quickly (and as coolly) as he could in the summer heat to the closest fast food joint to the usual spot and bought two large fries: one for him and one for Yamaguchi (but it was more like a half for him and one and a half for Yamaguchi).

His skin was burning as he walked the steep path up the hill to the usual place. The trees were providing little coverage for him, since the sun hovered directly above them, mocking him for being unable to wait until their agreed meeting time ( _which would have been_ , Kei thought grumpily, _long after sundown_ ). He cursed every step he took, feeling himself melt into the ground, his legs wobbling with every bead of sweat that slid down his thigh.

He needed a shower. In hail. A hail shower could kill him and cool him down, which sounded like a win-win situation.

Why, for crying out loud, did Yamaguchi ask for this place? Kei felt like dying and he hadn’t even seen him yet. He says that, but he knew very well why.

The usual place was their place.

 _And there he is_ , Kei snickered as he finally neared their spot, _rolling around like a dog in the grass._

“Thought so.” He greeted. That was cool. It was calm. Very, very not-nervous. Kei was proud of himself.

As usual, Yamaguchi’s flailing and overzealous actions calmed him down, as if the nerves he had were being transferred to the brunette instead. Feeling himself wind down, he held out the bag of fries, “Here.”

Kei nodded as Yamaguchi took it hesitantly, almost fearfully, and squeaked out a small “Thanks, Tsukki.” The blonde sighed mentally. Even Yamaguchi knew this was out of character for him.

He didn’t know what to do next. Sure, he’d apologized before, but it was usually something he knew he would eventually be forgiven for. Things like neglecting Yamaguchi at training camps or hurting his feelings when he was criticizing his favorite show were things he could get away with. And more importantly, they were all things he was genuinely sorry for.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to apologize for what happened, but he didn’t know any other way to address it.

The things Akiteru had said were bothering him. He was right. Yamaguchi really was the only one he opened up to, the only person he trusted with the worst of his thoughts, but it went both ways. He knew Yamaguchi’s worst thoughts the same way he knew his.

He thought about whether or not he could actually open up to another person in the same way. Could he love someone if he couldn’t be honest with them the same way he was with Yamaguchi?

But he’d never even considered him that way.

“I don’t know what your favorite food is.” Could he think about him that way? Could he—? Yamaguchi had asked him something. “I don’t know your favorite food. I don’t know your favorite color.” Kei thought about it for a second. Wait, he might. “I think it’s green, but I’ve never really asked.”

If it were Yamaguchi, would he be okay with him?

But what if he wasn’t? Could he lead Yamaguchi on like that and then break his heart? There really wouldn’t be a way to fix their friendship if he did that. But it’s not like he hated what happened either. But it’s not for sure he would like it seriously either.

“And these are my favorite food, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi had thrusted the container of fries suddenly towards him, startling him backwards slightly, the enthusiasm enough to knock him out of his thoughts.

 _If it’s Yamaguchi_ , Kei thought, _If it’s Yamaguchi._

His relationships in the past were—not exactly out of boredom, not exactly out of loneliness—decent or average, no more amazing than any other and no sadder than any other. But in all of them, there was always a sense of disconnect. The first girl, he doesn’t even remember her name, was a friend of Yamaguchi’s girlfriend—he remembers _her_ name though. Yamaguchi’s girlfriend was Eimi; she had confessed to Yamaguchi in high school one day and the boy had been so flattered and surprised, he’d agreed the moment she had finished saying it. Kei heard her name so much, he felt like he was the one dating her.

The friend—he couldn’t remember her name for the life of him—had used her as an ice breaker. He’d agreed to date her, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe just to shut them both up about how great Eimi was. She had left him when their relationship wasn’t progressing, accusing Kei of not actually liking her. It wasn’t entirely untrue.

The second girl, again, appeared after Yamaguchi had gotten into a relationship. She had weaseled into his line of sight by talking about their chemistry class. She had a sarcastic sense of humor, probably thought she could relate to Kei somehow, and he tried to treat her more carefully. He had taken time to get to know her, gotten attached a bit. They lasted together longer than the first relationship, but she left too, saying that she couldn’t feel his love in his kisses. He had actually taken a liking to her but not enough to chase after her, not enough to cry over her, so he let her go.

He tried with that one. He messaged her every day, made sure she got home safe after classes, went to nurse her better when she was sick. He brought an umbrella from home and walked to school just to walk her home in the rain. He’d treasured her more than the first, maybe even let her in a little bit.

Despite that, his feelings never connected with hers.

There was no need to go out of his way for Yamaguchi, no need to obviously display his love—if love does form—because he would already know. His best friend, who had kicked his ass into gear when he was afraid, the one who shared the same horrible personality as him, the one who stayed by his side for this long and still believed he was a good person, was sure to see his sincerity when no one else would.

Kei was sure.

Yamaguchi was Yamaguchi. And if _he_ wasn’t opposed to it, then—

But first, he needed to apologize. “Sorry.”

Yamaguchi stared at him, eyes steady on his face. At first, the excitement of his thoughts shook his attempt to sound apologetic. He could see it in the way the boy’s wide eyes observed him in disbelief, indicating that he knew too. Kei wasn’t all that sorry.

When a minute passed without either one saying anything, Kei started to fret he had missed something. Maybe he was wrong about all of it?

“Hey?” He asked, resolve wavering.

Perhaps, for Yamaguchi, despite the way he was acting, actually hated what Kei had done? And that he had come to meet him to end their friendship?

No, that’s unlike Yamaguchi; Kei knew this. He knew this and yet, the thought of losing the one friend he’d kept all this time felt like a nightmare, like losing a piece of himself. He’d invested so much of himself into Yamaguchi that in the future, he was sure—without a shred of doubt—that if they were ever to part ways, it would be because Kei felt like he could survive on his own, because Yamaguchi was the strong one. He kept him grounded, living in the here and now. He never thought Yamaguchi would leave him.

Kei never thought he would be abandoned.

But maybe this was it.

“So that’s it?”

He really hoped Yamaguchi didn’t hear his voice crack. He was suddenly reminded about how hot it was, how loud the cicadas were screaming into his ears. He had forgotten the heat, sitting under the shade with Yamaguchi, feeling nostalgic chills in his mouth.

“Tsukki, do you like me?”

He just beat him to the punch? No, more than that, Yamaguchi sounded excited when he asked it? Kei jerked his head towards the brunette, completely flabbergasted from what he just heard.

“ _What did you just say?”_

In that moment, Kei recycled through all the thoughts he had since The Event. And every emotion he’s had with his girlfriends and the emotions he’s had with Yamaguchi. He thought about what could happen if he could fall in love with him. He thought about what could happen if he didn’t.

Even if he did fall for Yamaguchi, there would be so much trouble in the long run. He’d have to hide his relationship from his coworkers, from the rest of society. His family already thought he was dating him, so they wouldn’t be a problem, but what about Yamaguchi’s parents? Personally, Kei didn’t really have much of a problem, but Yamaguchi wasn’t as sturdy when it came to the scrutiny of others.

Even if they fell for each other, who’s to say they could survive under the pressures of society? They lived in Japan after all.

“But _because_ you’re Yamaguchi, I don’t want to say I _don’t_ like you.”

“Tsukki, do you—?”

 _Finish it for me._ Kei thought as he looked up at Yamaguchi. _Finish it for me, so I know you’re with me. So I know that if I keep going, you’ll be coming willingly—for whatever lies ahead._

“Do you want to date me?”

“I don’t know.” Ah, he chickened out. Yamaguchi had done exactly what he’d asked, but he chickened out. Lame. Pathetic. He was in no position to criticize Yamaguchi for being a coward when he couldn’t even say what he needed to. He needed to do this, because he had everything to lose, but everything to gain.

He could hear Yamaguchi screaming at him in his head. _You’re not lame! Are you stupid? We could be happy together, but first you have to say something!_ Kei laughed as he remembered the brunette yelling at him in a public restroom all those years ago, saying something really close to that. _Tsukki, get it together!_

“Do you care?”

“About what, Tsukki?”

“Labels, titles, formalities—dating, boyfr—“ Kei couldn’t even finish the word. It was too embarrassing, too cheesy, too corny for his cool, suave self. “Ugh, things like that?”

“Hmm, no, not particularly. Do you?”

Kei was absolutely terrified, but he hid his trembling hands by focusing his eyes on Tadashi’s face, distracting them both from anything his body might give away. He kept his eyes fixated on the brunette’s tan skin, following the freckles along his cheeks to distract him from his nerves.

“Then I want to try it,” He followed one freckle from the tip of Yamaguchi’s nose to the corner of his lips, “with you.”

He felt something ignite in his chest and a cold tremor dance along his arms and prickle at his fingertips. Yamaguchi’s eyes narrowed into nothing more than slits as he grinned from ear to ear at his words. He could already hear his trademark nickname in the air, _Tsukki!_

He tasted grape.


	4. Quiet Screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddles. And hand holding. Some kisses?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HmMmMm, shameless fluff? Shameless fluff.
> 
> Also my chapter summary is great. lol In any case, please enjoy this chapter! :) (I obviously have no set pattern for whose POV gets chosen for the next chapter, ahahahahhhhh...)
> 
> Notes:  
>  _Italicized words_ are thoughts, memories, or emphasized words.  
>  **Bold-faced words** are text messages.

Kei wasn't really a fan of physical contact, or so he liked to think. In previous relationships, he'd always acted cool and simply let his partner latch onto him, let them do whatever they wanted. He would never initiate it, but he enjoyed it, much more than he cared to admit. But it wasn't any different with Yamaguchi.

No, there was really nothing different about how he felt when Yamaguchi touched him.

Casual skinship was something that had always been part of their friendship. Like leaning on him when their volleyball practices got too much or when he'd use his shoulder as an arm rest simply because he was standing there or squishing together in the backseat of Daichi's car when he got his first paycheck and decided to treat them all out to dinner.

Touching Yamaguchi was the same as it had always been, and Kei felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

That's probably why, he guesses, that he started to want to touch him more, to see if his feelings would change if the _way_ he did it would make a difference.

"Tsukki! Let's watch this tonight!" Yamaguchi hollered from the living room, where he sat comfortably next to the arm rest on one side of the couch and Akiteru on the other.

The older Tsukishima had taken a month off from his job, and as a result, had taken to hoarding the living room for the summer. He had only graciously given it up to them for the night when Kei had scornfully called him a lazy adult who had no luck in love.

And just to spite him, Akiteru decided it was appropriate to stick around. They truly were brothers.

Kei was currently sulking in the kitchen where he leaned against the counter, head in his hands and the smell of popcorn filling his nose. "What movie?" He called back, not in the least surprised that Yamaguchi was talking to him as if he were in the same room.

"Moana!"

And even less surprised that he chose a Disney movie.

The microwave timer had sounded off its third chime, but Kei was too busy thinking about what to do. He could be overbearing and just smother Yamaguchi and somehow make it so uncomfortable that Akiteru would leave, but that could also make Yamaguchi uncomfortable and make him want to leave too. So that wasn't an option. He could be subtle about his actions and risk getting caught by Akiteru and getting teased for the next month about it. But at least Yamaguchi would be less likely to shy away.

"Kei! Popcorn's done right?" Akiteru asked, just a notch above the sound of the trademark Disney melody. "We're starting the movie!"

Kei grumbled as he carefully poured the piping hot popcorn into two large bowls, purposefully distributing them unevenly. A small smirk rose on his lips; he could already hear Akiteru's protests.

"Here." Kei offered the bowl with significantly less popcorn to Akiteru, keeping the more properly filled bowl for himself and Yamaguchi.

"Thanks!—Whoa, wait, Kei, what the heck is this? I thought you heated up two bags?"

Because he could never really smirk at his brother, Kei simply offered him a mischievous smile. "I did. That's your share, and this is ours."

Yamaguchi snickered quietly, hiding his shit-eating grin with one of the purple couch pillows. "It’s only fair, Aki-nii!" He supplied. "We're two people and you're just one!"

Akiteru grumbled, unable to argue with the brunette.

Kei had seen this pattern before. Yamaguchi could get away with nearly anything in this house, and he didn't even know it.

When they were kids, Yamaguchi had accidentally eaten Akiteru's share of cake, and the older blonde just patted Yamaguchi on the head like he'd actually done a good deed. But if it had been their dad or, God forbid, Kei who had eaten it, well, there would be some grumbling and stolen desserts for at least a month.

Another time, Yamaguchi came over unannounced in the middle of the night, crying about how his girlfriend had left him. He had called Kei, asked him to open the door in the most broken voice he'd ever heard, and sobbed into the phone. He tiptoed down the stairs that night, and they sat in his kitchen talking about it. About fifteen minutes in of Yamaguchi blubbering absolute nonsense to a spaced-out Kei, his mom had walked into the kitchen to a pair of wide-eyed boys, her eyes red and tired, clearly up before her normal waking hours, and like she had walked into the most normal thing in the world, just asked, _"What do you boys want for breakfast?"_

Everyone in this family was weak for Yamaguchi, Kei realized.

"Move over." Kei directed, directing the brunette towards the center of the couch with the bowl of popcorn.

"Ehhh," Yamaguchi pouted, but still made the motions to scoot towards the middle, "But I wanted the arm rest."

"Just lean on me instead." He had said it without much thought. It was something he normally said, strangely enough. Yamaguchi didn't even look like he had said anything odd. This was a pretty normal routine, he thought, but the _look_ Akiteru gave him when the words left his mouth.

Kei had just denied their relationship to Akiteru a few days ago, completely appalled by the mere suggestion of being romantically involved with Yamaguchi, and here he was thinking about ways to hold his hand. But Akiteru didn't know that. He had absolutely no intention of telling anyone the kind of relationship he and Yamaguchi were in now.

Mainly because he didn't really have a word for it. More of a trial run? An experiment? Friends with benefits? In which, the benefits consisted of only soft cuddles, bro-things, and semi-romantic things? (Though they had yet to get to any of that.)

Moreover, he didn't want anyone guilt tripping him for this. His own conscience didn't have faith in his ability to love Yamaguchi in the same way it had little faith to love anyone. He was already thinking about what might happen if things went wrong, most of which put him at fault.

But the Yamaguchi in his head just kept yelling at him. _Tsukki! I hate that you give up before you even try!_

So he's trying.

Kei placed the popcorn onto Yamaguchi's waiting hands as he plopped himself onto the seat, ignoring Akiteru's smug smirk.

Yamaguchi had done exactly as he normally did. He leaned against Kei lightly, the blonde’s right arm brushing against Yamaguchi's left. It was enough that he could feel the weight of the boy, but not enough to give him trouble grabbing a handful of the popcorn Yamaguchi had placed between them.

Halfway through the movie and Kei had completely forgotten about somehow holding onto Yamaguchi’s hand, and instead found himself utterly irritated by the damn _chicken._

“This has got to be the dumbest fucking bird.” Kei mumbled, now completely relaxed into the armrest, any thoughts of seizing Yamaguchi’s hand through the salt and grease of the popcorn erased from his mind.

Yamaguchi chuckled and agreed, “The absolute dumbest!” The brunette had followed suit when Kei slid down in the couch to relax half his body on the arm rest, and he now settled in the space between Kei’s right arm and his torso.

“Hey now!” Akiteru argued. “Some strengths are—“

“The dumbest bird alive.” Kei deadpanned, fully intent on interrupting any uplifting, wholesome message Akiteru was trying to convey.

The room had quieted down and minutes had gone by when Kei caught the light of his cell phone screen illuminating in the dim room. Normally, he’d ignore it and wait until he felt like bothering with a reply, but the sender had piqued his interest.

 

> **1 New Message: Nii-Chan.**

Kei eyed the phone suspiciously, then looked at his brother, their gazes meeting above Yamaguchi’s head.

Akiteru smiled at him, not at all paying attention to the movie.

Kei carefully reached for the phone, trying not to alarm the brunette.

 

> **Are you sure you’re not dating?**

Kei rolled his eyes, ready to retort, but he stopped when he realized his right arm was stuck and unavailable for texting, comfortably tucked beneath Yamaguchi’s head. With his phone mocking his situation in his left hand, Kei watched Yamaguchi’s eyes sparkle as the movie played out.

For all of his mind-wracking to do something romantic and the two of them had just fallen into place like this. How long were they like this? Had Yamaguchi done it knowingly? Or were they just _unconsciously cuddling?_ Kei wasn’t sure which was more concerning.

Kei set the phone back down on the armrest, this time face down. He couldn’t reply, and he knew Akiteru knew he couldn’t.

He could feel his older brother laughing in victory. What was the score now? 4 for Akiteru, 0 for Kei?

Well, not like Kei was going to need any points proving his platonic relationship with Yamaguchi anymore anyway.

A smile started to tug at his lips. This was something he didn’t mind losing.

“Who was that, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi looked up at him, brown eyes curious and somewhat nervous. He had asked in a whisper, probably thinking Akiteru was as engrossed in the movie as he was.

“Don’t worry about it.” Kei replied, still half-smiling and attempting to hide it with his left hand. He averted his attention to the movie, trying his best to ignore the brown eyes searching his face.

Yamaguchi frowned and reached for Kei’s left hand, pulling it away from his face to intertwine them together, their fingers lightly holding onto each other. The brunette wiggled deeper into Kei’s form, partially because he was slipping down and partially so he could hide their hands, which were now resting on Kei’s lap. Yamaguchi spent the rest of the movie rubbing his thumb along his knuckles, brushing his fingers along the palm of his hand to the tips of his fingers, hooking their index fingers together.

If Kei didn’t know better, he’d say that Yamaguchi was making sure Kei didn’t forget about him.

_Jealous?_ Kei thought as he observed the back of Yamaguchi’s head.

At that exact moment, Yamaguchi looked up at him, perhaps feeling like he should ask Kei if he was bothered by the excessive skinship.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

Yamaguchi was still frowning, but this time, his eyebrows had risen slightly, suggesting he was on the verge of a “Sorry, Tsukki.”

Before he could reply, Kei leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on the brunette’s forehead, smiling into it when he felt the boy’s hand still in his palm. He did it again when he felt his lips tingle. He leaned down further to place a kiss on his cheek when he felt his heart beat faster as Yamaguchi’s hand abandoned his and placed itself lightly in his hair.

_Oh,_ Kei thought contently as he planted another kiss, this time on the corner of Yamaguchi’s mouth, _I’m okay with this._

A sudden burst of coughing and choking pulled the boys out of their isolated bubble.

Both boys turned to look at the flustered adult, who was red-faced and laying sideways on the floor, clutching at one of the pillows, trying to hide his face and mask his coughing.

Kei’s eyes met Akiteru’s, and he smiled back briefly before turning his attention back to Yamaguchi. The blonde leaned back down, this time holding onto Yamaguchi’s face with his hands, placing butterfly kisses along his jaw and across his cheeks, purposefully adding emphasis with each one, indicating to both Yamaguchi and his brother that these weren’t experimental, treasuring kisses like the first few, but ones meant to tease and showcase and downright smother the brunette. Yamaguchi had gotten the hint and let the mood lighten too, bubbling up with muffled giggles as Kei’s glasses started to slip and hit his forehead.

“Oh for crying out loud, Kei!” Akiteru cried, throwing the pillow at their heads before stumbling out of the living room. “I’m going to bed! Enjoy the rest of your evening!”

When Kei could hear Akiteru’s footsteps up the stairs, a low chuckle began to seep from his mouth, halting his kisses.

“And you _lied,_ Kei!” Was the last thing Akiteru yelled down the stairs before retreating to his room.

Kei had managed to keep most of himself restrained, letting out only a few chuckles that escaped his control, but when Akiteru angrily—embarrassingly, more like—slammed his bedroom door shut, the blonde let out a loud, boisterous laugh, causing Yamaguchi to look up at him with a smile just as entertained.

When he finished his outburst, his eyes rested back to Yamaguchi, who looked up at him with wondering eyes.

Kei rested his forehead on Yamaguchi’s, realizing he’d never told him about his family. Well, it’s probably time he knew that the Tsukishima residence had already more or less adopted him years ago as Kei’s significant other.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, bumping their noses together.

“My family thinks we’ve been dating since we were children.”

“Oh.” A second passed before Yamaguchi pulled his face away, confusion written all over it. “ _Huhh?_ Wh-What do you mean by that?”

“So what movie do you want to watch next?”

“No, wait—Tsukki, what do you mean—Gah, fine—! Can we watch Moana again? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“…If you weren’t paying attention, what in the world were you doing?”

“W-We can watch something else!”


	5. Exaggerated Subtleties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi is trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love, everyone! There's a lot of focus on Tsukishima on the beginning, but I promise we'll get to Yamaguchi soon. :) 
> 
> P.S. With how slow these boys are progressing, I'm getting concerned about how long this fic is going to be...
> 
> _Italicized words_ can be thoughts or emphasis or flashbacks.

Tadashi knew Tsukki wasn't good with physical contact. As in, he wasn't good at initiating it, but by the way he always—and Tadashi meant always—let his previous girlfriends hang onto him in private (too many times had he sought out Tsukki, only to turn back when he found them curled together in a hidden area), he knew he liked the contact. He never let them do it in public, because that wasn't cool. And it wasn't suitable for a cool guy to enjoy cuddles.

Tadashi wanted to see if it would be the same with him. A few days into their Whatever-It-Was relationship—Tadashi didn't want to call it a romantic relationship if Tsukki wasn't going to call it a romantic relationship—nothing had really changed in the way they interacted. That's why, when Tsukki invited him over for movie night, he took his chance to test the waters.

He wasn't surprised when Tsukki settled into the place beside the armrest.

And even less surprised when he had told Tadashi to "just lean on [him]."

Because Tsukki, for all his bravado, liked being leaned on, romantically or not. It was always platonic before, like leaning his back on Tadashi's when they sat on the gym floor, wiped out and sweaty, or when he held his hand to eat a fry from his fingers (which, now that he thought about it, was pretty suggestive), or when he let Tadashi lean his forehead on his back or arm when he was too sleepy to function in the morning.

That's also why, he assumed, that Tsukki didn't even bat an eye when he had wiggled himself underneath his arm, head resting easily on his shoulder. (Although the dumb chicken might also have had a part in distracting him.)

Tadashi inwardly sighed when nothing he did seemed to clue Tsukki in—not the way he let his hands sit on Tsukki’s thigh, not the not-so-subtle attempts he made at catching Tsukki’s hand in the bowl of popcorn, and certainly not the way he tugged Tsukki’s arm around him when the AC kicked on (in retrospect, that last move was really just because Tadashi had gotten cold)—so he had given up trying to incite him about halfway through the movie, and resigned to just enjoy the film.

It was around this time that he caught the light of Tsukki's cellphone. The brunette assumed he would ignore it, so he thought nothing of it.

But then Tsukki tried to be discreet. He stilled his right side where Tadashi lay and had reached for it, looked at it, and set it back down.

A little abnormal, but not by much. If Tsukki had replied, he may have been a bit more suspicious, but when Tsukki smiled, well Tadashi just didn't know.

He suddenly felt out of place in Tsukki's arms. Was it discomfort? Fear? Jealousy? Who made his best friend smile like that? That was a smile mainly reserved for family and Tadashi. He never showed that kind of genuine smile to anyone else. No one else.

"Who was it?"

"Don't worry about it."

Tsukki was hiding his smile, and Tadashi knew he shouldn't worry about it if he said so, but he still worried about it. They just started, but was it already going to end so soon?

Tadashi reached for Tsukki's hand, watching the smile get replaced with a curious look instead. He kept it in his and outlined the lines on his palm, at least the ones he could see from the TV lights. He doesn't know how long he had kept at it, but when the ending movie credits started to roll and he was still rubbing his fingers along Tsukki's hand, he immediately glanced up at him, startled when he found Tsukki already looking down at him. He had been ready to apologize for more or less stealing his hands and arms for an hour and a half, but the blonde did something Tadashi hadn't expected.

He kissed him.

Not just once, but multiple times along his temple and on his cheeks, and if Tadashi weren't brimming with happiness, he would probably laugh at the ticklish sensation of Tsukki's hair brushing his face or the awkward bump of his glasses on his cheeks.

Tadashi wondered then, why in the world Tsukki's girlfriends had left him.

This was the most loved he'd felt in a long time.

\---

"We should go on a date!"

The blonde paused his game, mid-sprint through a foggy cemetery, dark gangly creatures waiting for him to make a misstep or a wrong turn. He set the controller down and twisted his body to peer up at Yamaguchi from his place on the carpeted floor. "Hah?"

"A date!" Tadashi was laying on the bed, a pillow tucked between his stomach and the bed. He fiddled with his cellphone nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with Tsukki. "Yknow, like go out and," and he wasn't sure where to go from there, considering their very snail-like progress,"do stuff. Together."

A week had passed since movie night and neither seemed to have the energy to trek across the three streets to get to other's house in the blistering heat. It would be easier, Tadashi mused, if they lived together, but he'd be surprised if that happened sooner than five years. The spiciest—excuse his lame—thing they'd done together was that initial kiss. Kiss? Was it even a kiss? Did Tsukki even consider that a kiss?

Tadashi wasn't exactly unhappy with how things were going.

But he was kind of unhappy.

Tsukki eyed him for a minute before replying, "Things together?" An all too familiar smirk started to rise from the depths of Tsukki's calm face. "Care to elaborate?"

"W-Well, like," Tadashi fumbled, trying to hide his blush with the pillow, "like going to the movies and holding hands! Or something."

"We can do that at home, where there’s AC."

This was true, Tadashi admitted.

"But yknow, if we're gonna," he didn't want to say it, because Tsukki hadn't said it yet, but he was going to risk it, "l-like, g-go out and _date_ ," he emphasized the word to make sure Tsukki was on the same page, "then we should probably go on at least one, right?"

Tsukki unwound himself, resting his back on the side of the bed. He pushed the controller around a bit, and mumbled something incoherent, his words masked by the background music of the horror game.

Tadashi leaned forward, letting his head rest on the edge of the bed.

He could see Tsukki's eyes dart toward him consciously, not embarrassingly or warily, just a little bit awkward.

Tadashi waited for him to speak up, letting his hands dangle along the side, lazily trying to touch the beige carpet with his fingertips. He had become so engrossed with the feeling of the rough material on his fingers and the circular patterns he was drawing beside Tsukki’s hand, he'd nearly forgotten he'd tried to ask him out.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Huh?" Tadashi looked up from the circles he'd drawn on the floor.

Tsukki's face deadpanned, looking mildly weary. "The date."

"Oh!" Tadashi pulled himself up and sat cross legged. "Uhm, where would you normally go?"

Tsukki sighed and slid down, until his neck rested on the edge of the bed. “Dinner and a movie?”

“Lame!” Tadashi laughed as he propped his arm on one knee and rested his chin on his hand. “How about an amusement park?”

Tsukki sent him a frown in response. “In _this_ heat? _No.”_

“Good point. How about shopping?”

Tsukki snorted at the thought. “What, so we can get more matching things?”

“ _Oh my God, Tsukki._ ” Tadashi whined, falling onto his back dramatically. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” The Matching Bag Situation that Tsukki will literally never let him forget about refers to the sports bags they used every single day of high school. The exact same brand and model, with Tadashi’s in green and Tsukki’s in red. They were even bought at the same time.

Why?

Tadashi.

Of course, Tadashi. They had agreed to get their supplies together one day, and Tadashi had found the bags. He liked them, but he knew Tsukki thought the sling bags looked cooler. Tadashi preferred the strappy ones, liked that they were roomy and came in different colors—but he didn’t trust his own taste. Tsukki had said they were okay, but he saw the way he was eyeing the other model.

_“I’ll just get the same one as you, Tsukki.”_   Tadashi had said, too much of a coward to stand out should he be the only one with this kind of sports bag.

He remembers distinctly the heavy sigh Tsukki let out before he let go of the sling bag he had been eyeing and asked Tadashi to point out which one he liked best.

_“Okay, then you get that one, and I’ll get the red one.”_

_“But Tsukki—“_

_“You get that one, and I’ll get the red one.”_

_“Sorry, Tsukki.”_

_“Thank you, Tsukki.”_

_“Thank you, Tsukki.”_

Tsukki let out a breathy chuckle. “We really were the only ones with that model, though.”

Tadashi buried his face in his hands, embarrassed by his own decisions and happiness. He shouldn’t be happy that they were matching and acting couple-like when they were just high school boys.

But he was happy that they were matching and acting couple-like when they were just high school boys.

“There are some games I want to check out though.” Tsukki continued while Tadashi rolled around on the bed, frustrated by his own feelings, which were beginning to run rampant in his chest. “So we can go shopping.”

“And then what?” Tadashi squeaked from between his fingers.

“Food?” Tadashi heard Tsukki pick up the controller again, resuming the game. “Let’s grab some snacks, food to go, and then spend the rest of the night watching horror movies?”

He smiled at the thought. This was a great plan. Very easy. So much like—Tadashi frowned. “Tsukki, that’s no different from any other time we’ve hung out. That’s not a date.”

He could hear the roll of Tsukki’s eyes from the tone of his voice. “Well what do you expect? It’s not like we’re just suddenly going to start doing romantic things on command.”

Tadashi could.

Tadashi very well could. And besides, what about those kisses before? Were those not romantic kisses on command?

He stilled suddenly, realizing in that moment: Tsukki hadn’t actually kissed his lips. He had avoided them, kissed every part of his face except his lips.

Those kisses weren’t romantic. They were no more romantic than the kisses you give to your dog.

_Ah_ , Tadashi thought, somewhat disappointed, _He’s not completely okay with it yet._

“But we can do one romantic thing.” Tsukki interrupted awkwardly, probably feeling a spike in tension with his last statement.

“Like what?” Tadashi didn’t know what he could offer. His pace and Tsukki’s pace were completely different. He wasn’t just two or three steps ahead of Tsukki; he was leaps and bounds and miles away from where Tsukki was, and Tadashi didn’t want to force him into his pace, because he had to make the decision to come to him.

Just like in their first year of high school, the only thing Tadashi could do was give him a push when he needed it, the one shock to his system to get himself together, but Tsukki needed to make the decision all on his own.

“You name it.”

Tadashi puffed up his cheeks in an attempt to prevent his mouth from running rampant and suggesting something way out of Tsukki’s boundaries.

He had to think like Tsukki, had to figure out what logically came next after hugs and soft kisses.

“More hugs and more soft kisses?”

The music of the game hushed into a soft melody once again as Tsukki dropped the controller and turned to Tadashi, his face twisted in disbelief. “Huh?”

“No—I mean—logically—“ Suddenly all of Tadashi’s thoughts started to come together, and whether he was  thinking like Tsukki or just linking it to hugs and soft kisses, he didn’t care because this idea was _brilliant_. “Let’s have a midnight picnic!”

Tsukki blinked, aware of the reference, but seemingly surprised by its suggestion.

“We haven’t done it a while, huh?” Tadashi smiled as Tsukki’s features started to relax. “Not since high school, maybe.”

Tsukki hummed in agreement before returning to his game.

**Author's Note:**

> And it has to be said now, because things happened that I hadn't planned while I was writing.
> 
> I do not control these characters. They control me. /sigh
> 
> Stick around for the next chapter anyway?


End file.
